


What ever she prefers. . .

by Roselyn



Category: A Cure For Wellness (2016)
Genre: Belly Kink, Belly Kissing, Belly Rubs, Belly fetish, Dry Humping, F/M, Fantasy, Incest, Kissing, Pain, Parent/Child Incest, Playing, Pretending, Role Playing, Sexual Fantasy, Tie Kink, Twisted, belly licking, eels in belly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 06:23:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15137051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roselyn/pseuds/Roselyn
Summary: Hannah does have an idea. A fantasy.Volmer is happy to oblige.





	What ever she prefers. . .

**Author's Note:**

> It was late, I was a little drunk when I wrote this, kinda horny and this came to my mind.  
> It's a little weird, kinda twisted and deliciously kinky. 
> 
> Don't like, don't read.

Dr. Volmer lies on his bed, slightly propped to the pillows. The girl has already opened his shirt, drawing circles on the skin of his flat stomach. Only one of his wrists is bound. It is a thing he demands of her now; a way to teach her that in the end, his hands will be free. Her hands will be free too, he hopes. It would be a shame if he would have to tie her up, like had had to tie up her mother. . .

The girl glances at him shyly under her brow, her cheeks begin to glow. 

“Could I. . . be a doctor again?” she asks shyly, hiding her face. 

“You wish to play doctor, like in the dental quarters?” Dr. Volmer asks helpfully. He has nothing against the idea. 

Hannah nods. She slides her finger horizontally over his belly. “Could you. . . could you pretend you’re sick with the cure and I. . . I will have to cut it out of you?” 

Well this is certainly new, making Dr. Volmer frown.

Hannah is quick to take notice of his expression. “I would only use my nail. I’ll be gentle, I promise,” she whispers and runs her finger shyly over his belly again. 

Dr. Volmer nods slowly. He’s up for it, as long as it keeps him from swallowing the eels outside the girl’s imagination. She has been persuading him to do it for days, but this, this is play. It is safe, painless and will most likely provide him pleasure. 

“Very well.” 

Hannah is delighted, beyond measure and so Volmer takes a breath, relaxing. He’s slightly amused, giddy with anticipation. He closes his eyes. Hannah’s finger already rests on his belly. 

“Could you. . . make yourself look like with the real cure inside you?” her mouse-like voice asks. 

The good doctor chuckles with his eyes still closed, pushing out his stomach. Whatever makes the girl happy. . .

Hannah slides her nail gently over his rounded lower stomach, hesitating. Volmer agrees with her hesitation; it is an odd location for a cut, if he has just swallowed the eels; the girl should have slid her finger across is upper belly instead, but he will not correct her. Whatever she prefers. And who knows; perhaps she has chosen the lower belly because that’s where his tender spot it?

Hannah makes a sound, her hands move to rub his belly nervously for a moment. 

“C-could you . . . talk?” she then asks silently. “Could you comment on my . . . actions?” 

Dr. Volmer cracks an eye open, looking at the girl. “People don’t usually talk when they’re in a surgery, Hannah; they’re asleep.” 

The girl looks at him, almost pained, and runs her hands over his belly for a couple of times. Her cheeks glow even brighter. 

And Dr. Volmer realizes it; the girl wants him to role-play with her. 

He’s up for it. He can pretend as much for her. Whatever Hannah prefers. . .

“But since this is play, I could do an exception,” he tells and sees Hannah’s eyes light up. Her smile is shy, pleased. She looks almost aroused, while taking a seat over his thighs. 

Dr. Volmer is delighted by the surprising pleasure, pushing his stomach back out, summoning a pained expression on his face. He’s going to give her a good show. . .

“H-Hannah. . . oh Hannah! I-I can feel them; they’re squirming in-inside of me!” he groans softly, arching his back as if he spasm in pain. “T-they are slimy tentacles in my stomach. . . it hurts, it hurts so much. . .” 

Hannah’s hands land on the stretched globe of his stomach, massaging gently. Perhaps she has not noticed it herself, but she has begun to rock her hips against his own. Volmer doesn’t mind, on the contrary, he’s encouraged by her actions. 

“H-how many are there?” the girl asks, sliding her cool hands up and down his roundness, exploring, almost like trying to feel the imagined eels through his stretched skin. 

“I-I don’t know. A hundred? A thousand?!” Volmer does not mind exaggerating the number, even though with the real thing, he would probably have burst already at fifty. He’s fine with any thought that excites the girl. 

“A thousand. . .?” 

Dr. Volmer nods, whimpering. He has started to sweat slightly. He thinks it only adds the illusion of his pain. 

“Please, Hannah, please. . . they’re slithering like snakes. I-I think they’re trying to break free.” To back up his words, Dr. Volmer sucks in his belly for a couple of times, pushing it back out, remembering the time when the eels had pressed against Hannah’s hands from the inside. 

He moans with the last push out, arching his back, gritting his teeth. “H-help me. You have to help me, Hannah; the agony —it’s too much to bear. Y-you have to help me; cut them out, please. Cut the cure out of me!” 

He pushes his stomach out again, groaning, panting, giving Hannah the impression she must hurry unless she wants him to burst. 

And she obliges, running her nail swiftly over the soft tender skin of his lower abdomen. 

“J-Jesus, Hannah!” 

Volmer drops out of his role for a moment, looking at Hannah accusingly. Her nail has left a red mark on his stomach. Had it been a real scalpel, she would have opened him from hipbone to hipbone. 

“You promised you’d be gentle. If you do it again, this stops,” he tells her and never before he has seen the girl so remorseful. 

“I promise. I promise I’ll not do it again,” she whispers, trying not to rock her hips. Her sex feels hot, slightly moist, making Volmer wish he could stroke her, even through panties, but he cannot. Dares not. He might not be able to help himself, if things got that far at this point. 

He sighs, lying back down against the pillows. She’s better to stitch me up with a trail of kisses, he thinks, summoning back his pained expression. 

“The cure, Hannah.” 

The girl nods, gently starting to press his stomach all over, examining, looking for a spot where to cut him. He allows her a couple of faster breaths, along with a soft pained sigh. 

“Hurry Hannah, Hurry!”

In the end, she settles for the old spot, slowly sliding her nail across his belly, a few inches below his navel. Just below the swell where his faked roundness starts.

Dr. Volmer watches her work, before he breathes faster a couple of times, gasping, giving Hannah the illusion he has felt her actions, that she has just opened his belly. “Oh-Oh Hannah. . .” 

Her hips jerk slightly with the sound of his gasp. The good doctor has begun to enjoy this twisted little game of hers. 

He breathes raggedly now, arching his head. His lips are parted, his breathing labored. 

“I feel them Hannah. I feel them spilling out of the wound. . .” and he rolls his belly, mimicking the sudden flood of eels, pouring out from his sliced lower stomach. To add the illusion he even relaxes his muscles a little, making the mound of his belly grow smaller. 

The girl gasps, letting out the tiniest of moans, her hands rubbing up and down his roundness as she rolls her hips a little harder, a little deeper, deliciously pressing against Volmer’s rock hard cock. 

He is quick to use to groan that escapes his lips, rolling his own hips a couple of times, making his stomach move like something was still wiggling inside. “T-there are still some of them left,” he breathes, gritting his teeth. “I-I can feel them swimming inside of me, wrestling against my guts. Take them out, Hannah. Please! I am going to die, Hannah. . . Please, I am going to. . .” 

“Don’t worry. I’ll help; I’ll pull them out,” she convinces, pressing her fingers a little harder against the center of his lower belly. Her hand must have entered the imaginary cut now, Dr. Volmer reckons. 

He moans softly, closing his eyes again. He pushes out his stomach a little more. “Gentle. Please be gentle. I can feel you, your hand —I can feel it in me.” He makes a loud gasping sound of pretended pain as the girl’s fingers press a little harder. He whimpers. Sobs, nearly, as the girl’s fingers curl against his skin, grabbing an imaginary eel. She slides her fisted hand on his stomach, pulling out the wiggling worm. Volmer makes sure he whimpers with the gesture, breathing deeper, making his stomach move softly up and down. 

Hannah repeats the movement a couple of times and with each nonexistent eel, Volmer allows the fleshy mound of his stomach to shrink a little smaller, making soft whimpers on the way. Whimpers that make Hannah rock her hips a little faster. 

“H-Hannah. . .” 

Her eyes flash dark, wanton, as she looks at him for a split second, before bending down to kiss his stomach. She’s not actually stitching up his gaping wound with kisses, thus her lips are all over, sloppy, greedy, soon joined by the wet heat of her tongue that makes a moist trail across his belly. 

Volmer groans louder this time, rolling his stomach again to delight the girl. He’s getting lost in his pleasure, the girl’s name becoming his silent, pained, pleading chant of a prayer. 

“Hannah. . . Oh Hannah. . . my sweet Hannah. . . My sweet, sweet girl. . .” 

For his surprise she sits on top of him again, this time, directly over his hips. His throbbing erection rubs against her sex through the fabric of his trousers and he can feel Hannah’s panties are near soaked. 

She rolls her hips, taking support from his chest and shoulders, forcing a small cry out of him. Even Hannah whimpers, starting to rock her hips again. Her speed increases. She has not noticed that Volmer has had his pleasure a long time ago. 

“H-Heinreich,” she whimpers and Dr. Volmer cannot help himself anymore, as the girl moves in to claim his mouth. He answers the kiss greedily, breathlessly, sinking the fingers of his free hand in her hair. 

He’s sweating heavily, panting heavily and Hannah’s touching his face. He can feel it, the mask, slipping. He’s going to sweat it off. 

He pushes the girl away roughly, panicked, untying his other hand. He rises, placing a hand swiftly over his forehead. That’s where the mask always starts to slip first. 

He turns away from the bed, sweaty, scared. He cannot let the girl see him like this. “Enough, Hannah! Enough of this!”

He beguines to walk away, heading towards the door. He’s not a young man anymore and even the mask he wears is designed to show the features of a mature man, experienced and dedicated to his work for years. Just because of his looks it’s a miracle the girl has gone this far with him willingly. He cannot risk scaring her by letting her see the face the fire has destroyed so long ago.

“You did not let me finish!” Her voice is angry, feverish, even slightly pleading. “You have to let me finish!” 

Dr. Volmer wishes he could, but he cannot. 

“Not this time, Hannah.” 

He leaves the room without as much as a glance over his shoulder.


End file.
